I typically wouldn’t start off my blogging adventure with such a dark subject, but here I am…going through a dark time… and allowing horses to heal me. Instead of bombarding you with 8 weeks of unfortunate events to read through, I will tell you that I couldn’t make up the series of insanity that had played out over the last two months of my life, and I wouldn’t want to. It started with a car accident and has just continued to snowball.

But here I am, still laughing, still taking every day one step at a time. And when I can hitch a ride to the farm (car accident involving severely broken arm = not allowed to drive for 9 weeks) with any of my amazing farm family….I go out into the field, sit on the ground with my big draft cross monster, Walle, and his best friend the BLM Mustang, Bean….and I heal.

Horses have been my solace and source of sanity for so long that while I have dreams of galloping cross country, taking the blue ribbon, or executing the perfect Dressage test, the truth is I’m just as content just being with them. I feel equal fulfillment sitting bareback in the middle of the ring in summer, listening to the tree frogs, watching lessons and quietly enjoying the company of my friends as the sun sets as I do after finishing a course, surviving a flat class with 25 other people, or halting at X and saluting the judge.

Victory is victory, and I revel in the smallest of the small and celebrate everything.

It’s not uncommon for my friends to find me leaning against a fence post with my eyes shut, meditating, breathing in the smell of horse with a mustang on one side of me and my draft monster on the other (lovingly called the Belflinger….Belgian/Haflinger…yeah, that about covers my creativity) and remembering that I have everything to look forward to. Or they find me in the barn grooming my horse…which sometimes unfortunately involves me, Pandora, and some pretty sub par dance moves (depending on how likely I think I am to be alone long enough to get in some good music therapy along with pony therapy.)

To the poor people who have walked in on me singing my little heart out in the barn, I’m so sorry you’ve had to witness that. I’m also sorry (not sorry) that my preference is hard Rock.

I’ve never been able to understand the people who can’t understand that sometimes I just need to hop on bareback in my scrubs after work and watch the sunset, or the ones that don’t understand why sometimes I just go to the barn to sit there and accomplish “nothing”. I can’t imagine living in a world where horses didn’t give me respite from all of the things that break me down in life. Most of the time the people who don’t understand are the people who have never had the privilege of being healed by a horse. And man….do I feel sorry for them.

So if you need me throughout the insanity, you’ll find me there. In the barn dancing and singing. In the paddock, leaning against a tree or fence post, sitting on a pile of hay. You’ll find my with my eyes shut, my racing thoughts slowing, my breaths steadying, my heart beat evening, and my wounds healing. You’ll find me in awe that I have these amazing creatures in my life  and that they have the ability to heal us so fully without ever really trying…they do it simply by allowing us to be a part of their life.

And honestly, that makes us the lucky ones, doesn’t it? I certainly think so.

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